Published: Saturday, April 13, 2013 at 10:21 p.m.

Last Modified: Monday, April 15, 2013 at 10:59 a.m.

SARASOTA - Editor's note: This is one in a series of stories looking at homelessness in our community.

The sun-lined faces of panhandlers holding torn cardboard signs peer into your car window on the drive to work. Someone is standing in the median, waiting to collect a few bucks as you head to the gym at night. On a weekend trip to the park, people hold signs telling you they're:

Homeless.

Hungry.

Willing To Work.

After years of efforts to reduce homelessness in Sarasota, city leaders and police are stymied. They lifted a law against soliciting money from people in vehicles because it infringed on free speech, and now, Sarasota's street corners have become an ATM.

On a downtown median, panhandlers can bag $20 an hour in donations. In December, before the rule was lifted, holding a sign there could have cost someone $500 and up to 60 days in jail.

Residents who have watched the turn of events are curious and frustrated. And the rumors are churning:

People work in shifts. They make big money and drink coffee at Starbucks. They've been bused in from St. Petersburg and Tampa. The ACLU hired college students to pose as the homeless and monitor police.

“People have had it,” said Mayor Suzanne Atwell. “I have had it. I'm tired of being held hostage by a seemingly organized group.”

Atwell said she knows the “cast of characters” who line her drive along U.S. 41. She knows they work in shifts.

“I'm headed to the office and I know what I'm going to confront and it affects me, it gets me angry,” she said. People from other cities ask her about it. She overhears tourists discussing it at restaurants.

“Wherever you go, there's this talk: ‘What's with Sarasota and all the panhandling?' ” she said.

Atwell said the influx could soon subside, though.

On Monday, city officials plan to review an updated ordinance designed to withstand legal challenges and allow police to arrest panhandlers in streets and at medians. (It will not stop solicitation on sidewalks.)

But the local ACLU chapter warns that the new

version could also be unconstitutional. If their warning delays a new rule, it will likely fuel community members' aggravation and allegations.

It's difficult to sort through the rumors, but several people panhandling last week acknowledged that people have come from other areas — perhaps not Tampa, but parts of Manatee and Sarasota counties — where there are laws preventing soliciting near roadways.

There used to be a half-dozen people who frequently held up signs to passing cars in Sarasota, said Seann Manning, who is homeless. “Now they're on every street corner,” he said.

When police threatened to arrest Manning for solicitation in December, the ACLU represented him. It sued the city and filed an injunction — that will soon dissolve — that has allowed people to panhandle free from police interruption.

The city's moratorium draws people from other jurisdictions where solicitation is restricted, Sarasota Police Capt. Paul Sutton agrees.

“I think it's more than we've ever seen in the past,” he says, comparing the rise to what would happen if Sarasota “took down the speeding signs and said you can go as fast as you want.”

When Bill Wilson drives past people panhandling along streets, he recognizes some faces from his job as director of development at Resurrection House, a resource center where many of Sarasota's homeless spend part of their day. There are many he does not recognize.

Word seems to be getting out that enforcement will return in May, Wilson said.

Hugh Fiore, who lives near St. Armands Circle, hopes so.

He believes the ACLU injunction that blocked the city from enforcing the ordinance has created a “cottage industry” that operates at the expense of other residents.

And potential Sarasotans, he added. A real estate broker told Fiore that after seeing the panhandlers, a couple of clients defected to Naples.

“It's just a blight on my wonderful community,” he said.

Legal battles

Dorothy Meehan is a comic strategist.

She knows what her city responds to and when a response translates to the most dough.

“If you can provoke a smile, they'll usually throw a dollar at you,” Meehan, 49, said as she sat in the shade last week near Sarasota's Unconditional Surrender statue, finishing a crossword puzzle.

She was on break.

Ricky Hodge, whose name is tattooed in blue on Meehan's neck — a permanent Valentine's Day gift — held a sign at Gulf Stream and U.S. 41.

The couple used to live around Tampa, where they would switch off with others asking for money at 10 traffic lights. In Sarasota it's not so organized, they said.

“People are a little more greedy out here,” Meehan said.

They don't work in shifts, the couple said. They just wait for a good spot.

If the city eliminates their posts, will life improve for homeless individuals like Hodge and Meehan?

Atwell says yes. It will push people to other options instead of “corralling” them in a situation where they know they'll get money, she said.

“I feel bad that they're increasing the number of disenfranchised people by getting them to do this,” she said, referring to the ACLU.

Manning argues that if Sarasota's ordinance does change, the panhandling won't stop.

“They're just going to put more people in jail, that's all,” he said.

Michael Barfield, legal chairman for the local ACLU chapter, called solicitation “the lowest crime that is on the books,” and said preventing it just creates more work for the courts and more costs for taxpayers.

“It's not addressing the underlying cause of homelessness,” he said.

For Hodge, 43, that is alcoholism. He has been arrested some 40 times for open-container violations and disorderly intoxication. He has been picked up several times for driving with his license suspended. He has no valid ID, making it tough for him to get work.

“This is a very humbling experience,” Hodge said about panhandling. “It's not something I want to do.”

He doesn't see another option.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked. “ Rob a \ bank?”

Meehan, who moved from New York to Florida 16 years ago, used to help construction teams, sweeping and doing other tasks.

From her bayfront resting spot, she gestured toward the city before her, pointing out two prominent condominiums she worked on.

“I helped build the city,” Meehan said. “And I feel like they're trying to push us out of it.”

<p><em>SARASOTA</em> - <I>Editor's note: This is one in a series of stories looking at homelessness in our community.</i></p><p>The sun-lined faces of panhandlers holding torn cardboard signs peer into your car window on the drive to work. Someone is standing in the median, waiting to collect a few bucks as you head to the gym at night. On a weekend trip to the park, people hold signs telling you they're:</p><p>Homeless.</p><p>Hungry.</p><p>Willing To Work.</p><p>After years of efforts to reduce homelessness in Sarasota, city leaders and police are stymied. They lifted a law against soliciting money from people in vehicles because it infringed on free speech, and now, Sarasota's street corners have become an ATM.</p><p>On a downtown median, panhandlers can bag $20 an hour in donations. In December, before the rule was lifted, holding a sign there could have cost someone $500 and up to 60 days in jail.</p><p>Residents who have watched the turn of events are curious and frustrated. And the rumors are churning:</p><p>People work in shifts. They make big money and drink coffee at Starbucks. They've been bused in from St. Petersburg and Tampa. The ACLU hired college students to pose as the homeless and monitor police.</p><p>“People have had it,” said Mayor Suzanne Atwell. “I have had it. I'm tired of being held hostage by a seemingly organized group.” </p><p>Atwell said she knows the “cast of characters” who line her drive along U.S. 41. She knows they work in shifts.</p><p>“I'm headed to the office and I know what I'm going to confront and it affects me, it gets me angry,” she said. People from other cities ask her about it. She overhears tourists discussing it at restaurants.</p><p>“Wherever you go, there's this talk: 'What's with Sarasota and all the panhandling?' ” she said.</p><p>Atwell said the influx could soon subside, though.</p><p>On Monday, city officials plan to review an updated ordinance designed to withstand legal challenges and allow police to arrest panhandlers in streets and at medians. (It will not stop solicitation on sidewalks.)</p><p>But the local ACLU chapter warns that the new</p><p>version could also be unconstitutional. If their warning delays a new rule, it will likely fuel community members' aggravation and allegations.</p><p>It's difficult to sort through the rumors, but several people panhandling last week acknowledged that people have come from other areas — perhaps not Tampa, but parts of Manatee and Sarasota counties — where there are laws preventing soliciting near roadways.</p><p>There used to be a half-dozen people who frequently held up signs to passing cars in Sarasota, said Seann Manning, who is homeless. “Now they're on every street corner,” he said. </p><p>When police threatened to arrest Manning for solicitation in December, the ACLU represented him. It sued the city and filed an injunction — that will soon dissolve — that has allowed people to panhandle free from police interruption.</p><p>The city's moratorium draws people from other jurisdictions where solicitation is restricted, Sarasota Police Capt. Paul Sutton agrees. </p><p>“I think it's more than we've ever seen in the past,” he says, comparing the rise to what would happen if Sarasota “took down the speeding signs and said you can go as fast as you want.”</p><p>When Bill Wilson drives past people panhandling along streets, he recognizes some faces from his job as director of development at Resurrection House, a resource center where many of Sarasota's homeless spend part of their day. There are many he does not recognize.</p><p>Word seems to be getting out that enforcement will return in May, Wilson said.</p><p>Hugh Fiore, who lives near St. Armands Circle, hopes so.</p><p>He believes the ACLU injunction that blocked the city from enforcing the ordinance has created a “cottage industry” that operates at the expense of other residents.</p><p>And potential Sarasotans, he added. A real estate broker told Fiore that after seeing the panhandlers, a couple of clients defected to Naples.</p><p>“It's just a blight on my wonderful community,” he said. </p><p><B>Legal battles</b></p><p>Dorothy Meehan is a comic strategist.</p><p>She knows what her city responds to and when a response translates to the most dough.</p><p>That's Friday and Saturday nights, with messages like: “Family abducted by ninjas, need karate lessons.”</p><p>“If you can provoke a smile, they'll usually throw a dollar at you,” Meehan, 49, said as she sat in the shade last week near Sarasota's Unconditional Surrender statue, finishing a crossword puzzle.</p><p>She was on break.</p><p>Ricky Hodge, whose name is tattooed in blue on Meehan's neck — a permanent Valentine's Day gift — held a sign at Gulf Stream and U.S. 41.</p><p>The couple used to live around Tampa, where they would switch off with others asking for money at 10 traffic lights. In Sarasota it's not so organized, they said.</p><p>“People are a little more greedy out here,” Meehan said.</p><p>They don't work in shifts, the couple said. They just wait for a good spot.</p><p>If the city eliminates their posts, will life improve for homeless individuals like Hodge and Meehan?</p><p>Atwell says yes. It will push people to other options instead of “corralling” them in a situation where they know they'll get money, she said.</p><p>“I feel bad that they're increasing the number of disenfranchised people by getting them to do this,” she said, referring to the ACLU. </p><p>Manning argues that if Sarasota's ordinance does change, the panhandling won't stop. </p><p>“They're just going to put more people in jail, that's all,” he said. </p><p>Michael Barfield, legal chairman for the local ACLU chapter, called solicitation “the lowest crime that is on the books,” and said preventing it just creates more work for the courts and more costs for taxpayers.</p><p>“It's not addressing the underlying cause of homelessness,” he said. </p><p>For Hodge, 43, that is alcoholism. He has been arrested some 40 times for open-container violations and disorderly intoxication. He has been picked up several times for driving with his license suspended. He has no valid ID, making it tough for him to get work. </p><p>“This is a very humbling experience,” Hodge said about panhandling. “It's not something I want to do.”</p><p>He doesn't see another option.</p><p>“What do you want me to do?” he asked. “ Rob a \ bank?”</p><p>Meehan, who moved from New York to Florida 16 years ago, used to help construction teams, sweeping and doing other tasks. </p><p>From her bayfront resting spot, she gestured toward the city before her, pointing out two prominent condominiums she worked on.</p><p>“I helped build the city,” Meehan said. “And I feel like they're trying to push us out of it.”</p><p><null></p>